The Shadows Will Cease
by Readwriter3
Summary: How did Sirius escape from Azkaban? Where was he all those months if not with the Order? What if he was staying with his love, someone his friends did not approve of? With so much confusion surrounding the night of Voldemort's demise, how does Sirius set the record straight? Written for my friend DestinyIntertwined with OC love interest and set during POA as requirements.


DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

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**The Shadows Will Cease**

The shadows played over his face and settled in the crevices of his skin like ash over rubble. Their places there were permanent; tortuous with their unshakeable hovering, always lurking—ready to pounce the reflected observer in mirrored glass, harboring their dark secrets in the grottos that resided below the eyes, at the corners of weakly stretched smiles, ever more present in deep-set frowns. Perhaps they'd become so commonplace he'd barely noticed that some other form had inhabited his features, but his friends and loved ones always stopped to wrinkle a worried brow. They could see as clear as day the changes that the darkened, intangible masses had incurred on him. He either didn't notice, didn't care, or was too scared to mention them by name, for fear their long-awaited coup would come to pass.

This latter state of ignorance was the one he chose to employ at the present. If he didn't, he might just fall apart. The filthy apartment somehow became a vessel for the shadows—swept into the corners by day and allowed to frolic at night.

It was three in the afternoon. The quaint, oft-forgot street in some back alley of London was barren at this hour. Surrey Street could usually be counted upon for a good old, cripple gypsy, peddling her wares with her peg leg and one good eye. The other one had gone mysteriously missing. It was rumored she'd sold it on the black market, and, if it was true, most likely to Borgin and Burkes in Diagon Alley. Now, her decrepit features were such that it appeared the eye had been sucked out, leaving the skin paunchy and suckered in at the socket, four deep lines where the shadows took residence, too. They seemed to be all over the place nowadays, these shadows.

In these dreadful times, where the aura of the world slithered its way into every moment of every individual's life, it was a miracle there was any happiness to be found—any carefree moments of unbridled elation, any moments not filled with the ominous feeling that acid was leaking into your insides, eating you from the stomach out.

Sirius sat alone at a round, rickety kitchen table, with three and a half legs and as many chairs. Despite that acid-sinking feeling he had felt his fair share of, despite the shadows plaguing him perhaps more so than any other civilian, he sat, his right leg bowed and resting on his left, _The Daily Prophet_ spread in front of him and with a cup of Earl Grey tea unfurling its tantalizing aroma like a smoke signal towards his mouth and nose. Somehow, a faint smile was etched upon his lips.

Mia came padding into the kitchen, wearing slippers in the mid-afternoon. She moved the kettle on the stove, wiped its previous location down with a rag and replaced the pot.

"Is the tea hot enough, dear?" she called softly. He could barely hear her. Though when the nimble lyrics of her mundane speech stumbled past his ear, he could not help but feel his heart beat faster, his hands go weak, his smile widen, his eyes grow bright.

"It's fine," he called back in his steady bravado of a voice. "Care to join me?" He moved a stack of papers sitting on the adjacent chair as she came to sit next to him. His eyes never left the paper he was holding, and when she sat, he subconsciously reached for her hand. She took it limply.

For her size, many would be surprised by her audacity. She was small at just five feet, but this fact was not to be mistaken for meekness or infirmity of mind. She was cunning as a raven and as quick-tongued as the raven's beak upon his prey. Sirius mused about how alike she and Tonks were. Curious that two best friends would find such similar lovers. Though what Tonks possessed in stubbornness equaled Mia's rational concern and fierce loyalty to her loved ones. Lately it seemed the fire had gone out—Sirius did not love her any less but worried about her even more. If he had brought this change upon her, he would leave again as swiftly as he had come not a month ago. He would not be responsible for causing her such distress.

Mia folded the gray flaps of her robe back over herself, carefully covering her torso, though it wasn't very cold in the rainy tendrils of April. She tucked the frazzled strands of hair, come loose from her ponytail, behind her ears. She bowed her head towards their interlocked fingers, swallowing something—her fear, her tears, her anguish. Though Sirius was engrossed in his newspaper, her inner conflict was not lost on him.

"What is troubling you, mi amore?" He called her his "amore," as her name was of Italian and Irish descent. Miaquinn was her full name—"Mia" for bold and "quinn" for intelligent. He put the paper down, and the pages fluttered to a stop on the full-page wanted ad, featuring a "mad" looking Sirius, desperate to kill, according to the poster. Mia visibly bit her lip to either prevent the overflow of emotion or the outpouring of bitter words.

He reached out to her and turned her chin towards him. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she whispered.

"It is something. Mia, I will turn myself in this instant. I will walk out this door, into broad daylight and knock on Voldemort's door, if only so I wouldn't have to see myself put you in this state of anguish. Tell me."

She could fight them no longer. The tears came. Vulnerability was not something she relished, but it was her fatal flaw. She tore away from Sirius and lunged for the raging lunatic portrayed in the _Prophet_. She tore it up, splitting his face with a resounding rip that cut the uncomfortable silence. As she tore it into tinnier and tinnier pieces she yelled at him, "Maybe you _should_ just go back to Azkaban! I mean, isn't that what you're asking for? Escaping like this? Perusing the newspaper as if it were the most normal day in the world? As if the streets weren't filled with vagrants and Death Eaters, all with one idea in mind—to kill you, or rather, to capture you and punish you with unimaginable torture. And then you come here and torture _me_. You _torture_ me, with your love and affection, your infallible willingness to survive and you make me love you all over again, but with this one, small reservation; that you could be taken away again, and not just taken, but brutally, unmercifully tortured. And with every curse they thrust upon you, they too would be plunging a knife into my heart and twisting it until it bleeds dry." The tears were gone now. All that remained were tiny bits of paper that fluttered on the wind and out the open window. Mia moved quickly to the curtain riding on the gusty, rain-laden air and drew it in before shutting the window. She waited there for a moment, looking out onto a bleak landscape, half-wishing for a Dark Mark to appear in the sky, if only so this gnawing ache would go away. She heard Sirius move away from the table as the legs of the chair scraped against the glossless floorboards, worn down with the sandpaper of age and strife.

"Mia."

She turned to face him. He was tall, or once was. Now his statuesque arrogance had been whittled away to a stooping stance, his back concaved from the torture sessions at Azkaban and his repeated stint as a dog, his hair long and scraggly, dirt seemingly all about him even though he was clean. Clothes that seemed too stretched out over such a waning figure. Where had her Sirius gone? To Azkaban yes, but somewhere else, too. The scary part was she wasn't sure if it was him or just what that place had done to him that had turned his will.

She couldn't help but run to him, hit his chest like a brick wall and melt against it. She inhaled his smell, filling her lungs with the rich aroma that she imprinted in her mind, making it so that she could call upon it like one would an image of a summer day in the dead of winter. She buried her face in his scraggly strands of hair, as if he had taken his animagus form and was a pet dog she was coddling. He let his spider-leg fingers comb through her own hair, consoling her the only way he could at the present.

"Why Sirius? Just tell me why," she whispered into his cloak.

"I had to see you, to be with you."

She rammed her fists against his fragile chest bones. "Don't _lie_ to me Sirius! I deserve at least the truth. Had you escaped for me, you would have escaped long ago. I'm not hurt by the fact that I was not compelling enough to will you out of there; truly I'm not. I'm only happy that you're all right. But, I have to know why you're here—otherwise I can't help you. And then if…" she swallowed that choking knot in her throat, "…if I lose you, at least it will not be in vain."

Sirius looked down into her magenta eyes. They changed hue according to her mood, and he remembered fondly that this particular shade of purple conveyed her worried curiosity. He looked sheepishly upon her, biting his tongue before speaking. "Mia, I really am not at liberty to say. It's official Order business, I—"

"You bloody bastard! You may take me for a sap, but not an imbecile. _Order_ business. _ORDER_ business! Honestly Sirius, you can't even trust me with information about an organization I used to be a part of? Do you know what it's like, day in and day out when you leave the apartment disguised as a dog—I half expect a dog catcher to bring you back to me, if you come back at all. Every time I even see the shadow of a black mass or hear a distant bark from Flourish and Blotts I tense up; I drop every book I'm holding."

"Why do you work there, Mia? That job is as dull as a Muggle occupation. It's below you. With your talents you could be—"

"Don't change the subject! You won't make me forget with compliments how little faith you have in me."

"This has nothing to do with trust, Mia," he said weakly. "I'm under a tongue-binding spell. All members of the Order are. If I even so much as think about repeating classified information to a non-member, they'll know where to find me and both of us will be Confunded before we even have time to blink."

This wasn't exactly news to Mia. She knew about the protective measures the Order put in place, especially nowadays. Why then, deep down, did she secretly want Sirius to slip up, to reveal himself with a simple carelessness of the tongue? She knew it was because she couldn't bear the burden of Sirius' freedom alone. It made her too anxious and nervous, like at any minute, she would turn around and find Dementors dragging him back to Azkaban with his soul tethered to their mouths as a means of transport. Something had to be done—she had to know what he was up to.

"Fine," she said, defeated. She turned away from him, but only so that he would not catch the neon yellow glint in her eye that meant she was up to some kind of mischief.

Sirius was far from satisfied with the end result of the conversation, but he let it go, lest he suffer Mia's wrath. He resumed his place at the table and continued to read the paper, looking for signs of Voldemort's return and for stories about Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, places he had cherished as a boy and still did. His teacup was empty, so he levitated it to the kitchen where Mia was making herself busy. He made it nudge her arm playfully, almost as if it were a cat sucking up to its master. She couldn't help but smile a bit as she poured him some more tea. She reached into the cabinet above her head and procured a small, dark glass bottle with a triangular shape. She unstoppered the top and squeezed three drops of the clear liquid into the tea. The mixture swirled black and frothed before settling back into its unassuming tea-colored form. She brought it to Sirius herself and watched him take a sip, all while reading the paper. His face did not register any expression of acknowledgement until she asked him a question.

"You really won't tell me what you're up to?" she said with a pathetic voice but wicked grin.

"You're not still on this, are you? I told you—" But before he could deny her the information, he spluttered and choked, making gagging noises. He couldn't lie to her nor conceal his true thoughts—not when he had been drugged with Veritaserum. "Mia," he croaked, his throat burning. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry Sirius, but I have to know. Why have you escaped from Azkaban? What is it that the Order's asked you to do?"

He writhed, straining as though against ropes. Sweat broke out on his face and he clawed at his throat, wishing to rip it out before his mouth could betray him. He could stand the burning no longer. "They want me to—"

"Aperio!" A jet of green light blasted the front door open, which then cracked the sheetrock of the wall behind it. Lupin stepped through the opening and Tonks, quite unaffected and calm, followed close behind. Lupin sprang to the chair where Sirius was sitting and shouted with his wand pointed between Sirius' eyes, "What was James Potter's animagus form?"

"A stag," Sirius gasped out, half forced by the potion and half glad to see his old friend Remus. Lupin put his wand away after holding it in the air for another second.

"I had to check," Remus remarked, his eyes trained on the floor. "Sorry about the door."

"No it was bloody brilliant. What was that spell?" asked Sirius in shock.

"Something a bit more powerful than 'Alohamora.' Useful when one doesn't have time for tact and care—and when confronted with rather clever individuals who use locks that are impervious to that spell."

"Of course," breathed Sirius, his heart still beating a mile a minute.

The four occupants of the apartment looked around at each other, quite at a loss as to what to say. There was so much unspoken tension between them; it was difficult to discern where to begin.

"Well it is good to see you Sirius, not too much more worse for the wear. Though it would have been better under…happier circumstances," Lupin said, his voice rising and falling to punctuate his speech and faltering as he took in his surroundings. "It's…how are you Mia?" Lupin added, finally acknowledging her presence, somewhat awkwardly.

Mia had been startled by the intrusion, fearing the worst, but upon seeing who the trespassers were, merely folded her arms in a huff. "Like you care," she replied acidly. Without revealing it to Lupin, there was some measure of relief in his presence. Now she wasn't solely responsible for Sirius' liberty.

"Cheery spot you've picked for a hideaway, Sirius," Tonks said, looking out onto the dank alley. "Though I suppose anything is better than Azkaban."

"Even for you, Sirius, I'm surprised at your escape. The Order had a plan, a safe one that would have gotten you out undetected and to a safe house. But escaping without telling anyone and then coming here of all places! We've been waiting for you to leave a trail for weeks so we could find you. Your near slip there gave you away…where is your head?" Remus inquired with exasperation.

"Oh I don't know. He must have left that in Azkaban along with his good name and dignity," spat Mia with a pointed red glare at Lupin.

Sirius had remained sitting this whole time as if he had been bound to the chair. He had kept his eyes on Lupin since his entrance, but he tossed a cursory glance at Mia when he said, "Thank you Mia, that is quite enough animosity. I can handle my own defenses."

Mia didn't change her stance or attitude any—she wasn't in the habit of taking orders. That had always been part of the problem.

"I was going to contact you, Remus, as soon as I had done a little more reconnaissance. They've got Dementors covering every centimeter of sky within a ten-kilometer radius of Hogwarts and at every entrance to boot. It's been near impossible—"

Lupin lost his patience and stamped his foot in his fury. Sirius detected the slightest hint of werewolf emerging.

A shadow of worry passed over Tonks' features, though she quickly suppressed it.

"The Order knows this and much more," Lupin barked. "If you had just come to one of us before _Mia_ here—"

"Remus!" Sirius roared, rising from his seat at last. "I've put up with this feud for twelve long years! Neither of you will speak another unkind word to each other in my presence until we've set the record straight. However there is no time for that now. Any minute, the Ministry will recognize that magic has been performed in a Muggle village and I'll be back in Azkaban. We have to get to a safe house immediately."

Tonks had already taken care of this. There was a bottle of dish soap sitting on the kitchen counter and during the debacle, she had turned it into a Portkey to Grimmauld Place. It began to glow and all four grabbed a hold of it. In an instant, they were swirling through the air and had landed in the foyer of the old Black family mansion.

* * *

The magical defenses in place at the Order's current headquarters had no effect on the group since Remus and Tonks were Secret Keepers. They walked slowly through the narrow hall towards the kitchen where a meeting was taking place. Tonks knocked over the coat rack for the umpteenth time and swore at it without an effort to modify her language. Lupin saw Molly Weasley's face through the crack in the kitchen door that was letting in a sliver of sallow light. He saw her eyes register surprise at his return and then her face disappear, no doubt as she went to alert the other Order members.

Lupin tentatively pushed open the swinging door. Tonks sidled past him and plopped down in a chair near the right-most head of the table and began to examine her nail beds. Lupin looked at the faces of the Order members who were watching the entryway with great interest. Finally, he stepped aside and Sirius' rather grungy form illuminated the doorway. Mia hung back in the shadows, undetected at the present.

Shock and then pleasant surprise registered on all the faces of the Order.

"Merlin's beard," said Arthur Weasley, breathless.

A gasp escaped from Molly.

"For Pete's sake!" Moody exclaimed, stamping his staff on the floor. "Gave us all a ruddy heart attack when you escaped—thought ya was dead," Moody said, speaking more to himself as he raised his bad leg and rested it on the adjacent chair.

"Sirius, your rash impulsiveness as of late has not been kind to your friends' health—but I am glad you seem well," said Kingsley, his voice maintaining its pitch throughout in his smooth, deep tone.

Despite their rather tepid reaction to his return, Sirius was grinning. He was surrounded by all of his old friends, which even in the worst of circumstances was where he had always wanted to be. Sirius took a tentative step forward into the room and then walked around the table, shaking hands and receiving hugs. After a few minutes of this celebration, Lupin took a seat at the dining room table.

"All right that's enough lollygagging. We have serious business to attend to." Lupin was in no mood to enjoy his friend's safe arrival here—he was still angry with him.

"Well surely Sirius is hungry. And besides we've all been pecking at each other for hours with roundabout talks and worry. We need some nourishment," Molly said in response.

"Kreacher," Sirius called, still the master of the elf, regardless of their relationship.

"Yes Master Sirius," Kreacher said in his gravelly tone. He came to a stop at Sirius' feet and made a feeble bow, but did not break eye contact. Sirius did not care.

"We require some drink and aliment. Would you prepare a semblance of a meal for our guests?"

"Right away, Master," but Kreacher made no haste. He walked slowly to the stove, having no real reason to hurry to oblige Sirius' orders. Sirius merely rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Tonks.

"So tell me what _has _everyone been up to? The last time I heard from you all, Remus had sent his Patronus to my cell a month ago and began to outline the escape plan before the mass breakout. If it's any consolation, Remus, from what I heard your scheme would have worked." Sirius blatantly ignored Lupin's plea for more crucial talk in favor of light and airy conversation, but tried to smooth it over with his compliment. It didn't work.

"Well I still work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Been trying to lobby the Minister for extra funding, what else is new, so we can develop devices for Muggle protection now that You-Know-Who's back. Having a rather hard time convincing the Minister of his return. I'm not the only one who believes it, but it seems I'm the only one trying to talk some sense into the Minister," said Arthur.

"Kingsley?" Sirius said with an inquiring tone. "You are the closest to the Minister, are you not?"

"Indeed," he said with a singular nod of his head.

"From where is his stubbornness derived?"

"He refuses to acknowledge You-Know-Who's return for fear of political backlash. The Wizarding community fears as much as he does the possibility of another rise to power, so all seem to think it wise to ignore the situation, in vain hope that it shall disappear."

"And I suppose your advice has done nothing to sway him? You are still considered a confidant, correct?"

"One of his most trusted, yes. However, each time the subject is broached, he pushes it away."

"Not that we need him, but it really would be a big help to have the government's support," mused Sirius.

"We've never had the government's support and we would be hard-pressed to receive it now," said Lupin, chiming in at last.

Sirius nodded, not quite ready to get down to the crux of the meeting. He leaned in to Remus. "So you and Tonks are…eh…all right then?"

Remus gave him a weak smile and a tight nod. Sirius accepted this for now. "Moody? How've you been?"

"Fighting off Deatheater sightings and Dementors left and right. Head of the Aurors Department tried ta make me take a vacation—bloody bastard. If I take a vacation the whole damn department'll be dead within a week. The Deatheaters are becoming less cautious and more vicious. They ain't afraid to go out in public anymore. More defiant I guess is the word. Something's changed."

"Voldemort's return has fortified them—given them a spine shall we say," mused Molly, somewhat lost in thought.

Sirius turned his rapt attention to her. "Have you had many dealings with them, Molly?"

"Me? Oh nothing too direct, Sirius—so kind of you to be concerned. But one hears things—accounts of attacks and whatnot. I run several organizations for women at home, you know, to keep abreast of public sentiment. Just last week, Gwen Quailfeather from my House Hoaxes and Hygiene workshop used the Floo Network to get to Diagon Alley. She accidentally wound up in Pauper's Poisons in Knockturn Alley and there were two men waiting by the fireplace to "question" outsiders. Question! What a load of poppycock! Why, they attacked her like savages! For using the wrong Floo! Fortunately Mary Turnscott from my book club found her and rushed her to St. Mungo's. Her left eye is swollen shut—broke her right arm and her left ankle is badly off kilter but she should be all right."

"And the children? How are they?"

"Just fine. For now. Dumbledore's doing everything in his power to keep Hogwarts safe and free of _His_ influences, but parents are pulling their children out of there faster than hot Cauldron Cakes can fly off a shelf."

"Well that won't do," said Sirius, turning to Lupin. "If people perceive that Hogwarts is no longer safe, mass panic will ensue. If they can't trust Hogwarts, they won't be able to trust any place."

"Excepting Gringotts," said Moody. "You'd be madder than me to try and get in there for protection though." The Order shared in a laughing fit. It did help to lighten the mood.

When Sirius caught his breath, he looked around the table for someone he had yet to consult. Upon finding that the circle had come to stop at his seat, he said, "Well since we've come to my end of it, I suppose I'll tell you how it happened…and what I've been doing." He drummed his fingers nervously on the table as if playing a piano; the gaunt, bony appendages stretched out in front of him before he began his oration.

He took a deep breath. "It wasn't a particularly complicated affair—most of it was sheer opportunity and the work of the other inmates. The Dementors were not out in full force that night—a majority of them had been called upon to guard Hogwarts as I now understand it. As it was, only two guarded my floor. I remember distinctly leaning against the cold stones in the far right corner of my cell, gazing out at the moon and the stars through a crack in the cinder block and thinking of Mooney here when his Patronus appeared. I thought it was a trick of the eye or contraband—the inside of a chocolate frog container perhaps—but it continued to glide closer.

"A Dementor floated by and I threw part of my cloak over it to conceal its silvery glint. It passed, I unveiled it, and Remus' voice began to detail the escape plan. I was only half listening—I had heard a disturbance to the right of my cell. A prisoner driven mad was merely babbling something so I turned back to the Patronus, but it was gone. It had darted off down the passageway in pursuit of the Dementors. Rightly so, or it would not be a Patronus who sought to destroy all despair in its wake. The Patronus succeeded in driving away the Dementors for the time being, and suddenly the floor had no guards. I immediately seized the opportunity.

"I transformed into my Animagus form—previously an unapproachable idea. Dementors kill animals faster than wizards—they have no defenses. And they certainly can't eat chocolate to feel better. I heard a commotion as some of the other inmates began to sense imminent freedom. Azkaban is a cold place, both in nature and actuality. It is kept physically frigid, the inmates are kept as such as are their souls. Not a happy thought passes undetected through the minds of the prisoners. To possess an iota of joy is to defeat the very purpose for being there, and it is seized upon immediately and brutally with the Dementor's kiss. It is why hardly a man comes out alive. They don't need to rack up body counts with death penalties and murder—all they have to do is chip away at a man's soul.

"As such, any modicum of heat is like butter on a hot stove; it melts away the surroundings. In my canine form, all it took was a few minutes of labored panting to create enough heat to break the Frigidium Fortum binding spell on the cell doors; the metal immediately became pliant and retracted into the floor. I followed Lupin's Patronus as far as I could, but it slipped out through a crack in the wall and Disapparated. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long. A recently liberated Giant Troll took one step towards my end of the hall and walked straight through the wall. Suddenly, the inmates were pouring out left and right and in the chaos, I escaped, running to the farthest corner of London I could. Really it was Azkaban's own fault. If they hadn't lent out so many Dementors to the inane practice of guarding Hogwarts, the Patronus would have been overpowered by their sheer number—it is usually a great many—and the breakout would not have occurred."

Mia chose this moment to enter the kitchen. Sirius, his back to the door, was only made aware of this by the awed stares of the others. He turned to face her.

"Oh go on Sirius. Please don't let my inopportune timing spoil the fun. Just go on chatting, plotting, and completely ignoring my presence."

"Remus," Arthur said with a cold, clear conviction. His gaze did not waver from Mia's face, nor did his facial expressions soften or contort. "You neglected to mention that you brought a tag-a-long."

Mia's eyes burned crimson red, and Sirius swore he could hear hissing noises escape her, but she did not so much as flinch by way of retaliation. Sirius scraped his chair back hard against the terracotta stone floor. "Arthur! Is this really nece—"

"Of course it is necessary. What was she thinking showing up like this? She _betrayed_ us Sirius. She betrayed _you_!" Arthur's look and tone were so pointed that Sirius became defeated. Arthur was only trying to protect his friend and the philosophy of The Order.

"She didn't betray any of us. In fact, it was Mia with whom I stayed after my escape. We…maintained a correspondence." This he mumbled with a downcast glance, his once jovial and illuminated nature now reduced to his former weather-beaten self. Arthur's mouth hung agape.

"Maintained correspondence? Don't sell yourself short, Sirius. I'd say our relationship was a little more meaningful, wouldn't you?" Mia did not take her eyes off of Arthur as she said this. Sirius did not respond, and his silence on such a subject was the only thing that could tear Mia away from her staring contest. "What? Now that you're back with your cronies, you can forget all about me? Forget what we had? Forget who got you through those twelve long years in Azkaban, the person who stood by your side even when the world called you a murderer? Forget who took you in and took care of you and never, not for a single day questioned your actions or morals or thoughts or…anything?"

"Of course not. My silence should not be mistaken for sudden ignorance—" Sirius attempted to say.

"Really? Then how should I take it? Because to me it seems you are valuing your little club over me."

"Mia! Don't!" warned Sirius sternly. The Order did not take kindly to insults.

Before Sirius could rein her in, Molly stood up with purpose, her palms splayed flat against the table. "Little club?" she said with acid-filled incredulity. "Little club? The same little club that you, if memory serves, were once so proud to be a member of? The same little club that you subsequently _betrayed_ at the height of the enemy's power so you could go work for Him?"

"I did no such thing! It astounds me that after all these years, you still harbor such misguided perceptions about the events that transpired that night. The Potters would be so disappointed—embarrassed, even, that this conduct has taken place."

"What right do you have to speak their name? None! It is because of you and your…your…your stubborn, hot-headed ways that they lay dead in the ground at this moment, that their son is in grave danger and that their death is presently in vain!" shouted Remus, rising from his seat.

"ENOUGH!" roared Sirius. The room fell silent. The heat and tension that had built up around the room like cotton candy threads around a vat fell instantly with Sirius' silencing boom. "I won't stand for it! I won't stand for it any more! By George…we all sit here day after day trying to defeat Him, trying to avenge the deaths of our closest friends and most loyal members but all we accomplish is augmenting his strength and defiling the principles for which they stood and upheld. _Friendship_, _loyalty_…_trust_…these are the things they valued over all others and they were right to do so. We should be ashamed of ourselves because James and Lily would be if they saw us this instant. I won't stand for our disintegration as friends or as an organization over such a blatant miscommunication!" Sirius was panting from the exertion. Everyone's eyes were downcast in reflection of their actions. But nobody dared speak.

Mia looked around, arms crossed waiting for someone, anyone to make a gesture. After more deafening silence persisted, Mia gave up. "What is the matter with you people? You're all so full of pride and purpose, so used to striving tirelessly after 'good' and 'justice,' it strips you of the ability to see your faults, since you think that saints such as yourselves can't possibly have any. I'm sorry, Sirius, but I can't wait around for the gratification of obtaining an apology or clearing the air. I have more important things to do. You may stay here if you want, but then stay. Don't try to find me or talk to me. You'll have made your choice perfectly clear." With merely a lingering glance at Sirius, Mia left—turned on her heel and walked out. She was halfway to the front door, her fingers poised for Disapparation when Tonks came running into the front hall, the Order behind her in a scrambled fashion.

"Just listen to her! _Listen_ to her! If not to sate your own curiosity or to put her mind at ease, then for Sirius. For your best friend Sirius who suffered enough for all of us. Can't you see that he's being torn apart? How could you ask a person to choose between his love and his friends? Would you be able to do it, Remus? Molly? Any of you? If he loves her, she must have redeeming qualities. Did you ever consider that? Did you ever consider that if two of the Order members believe in her based on common moral principles, that maybe you all could, too?" Tonks was caught in the middle—a liaison between the lonely island and the mainland.

Remus stepped forward out of the huddled group.

Mia rolled her eyes. The last thing she expected was support from _him_.

"Tonks is right. Mia, will you do us the courtesy of relaying the events of that night twelve years ago?"

Well, that was a surprise…and polite. Mia straightened her nonchalant stance, affronted into some sort of professionalism.

Sirius looked hopeful at his friend's olive branch.

"Y—yes I suppose I could do that." She cleared her throat. "Well, I mean, you were all there. At least for the beginning of it. It was torrentially raining, the lightning made it look like daytime though it was the middle of the night. Sirius and I arrived here after most of you. We weren't sure that we were going to accept the limited protection afforded us, but Sirius thought it would be best. I sat down right over there, on the end of that couch and didn't move for the rest of the night…not until it was over.

"I remember being in a state of reverie. Not a happy one, mind you—more like I was numb to the environment around me. The children were all playing on the floor, blissfully unaware of the danger all around them and everyone else was speaking in hushed tones, not knowing what to do. We could only pass the time together and wait, hopefully not to hear the atrocities He incurred. The men stood up as a group, to the horrified looks of their wives or girlfriends…"

* * *

"_Where are you going?" Molly asked, tugging at Arthur's arm as he stood._

"_Out into the villages…to the Order members' houses. We have to make sure everyone is safe," replied Sirius, looking over at Mia who stared back, but made no attempt to stop him. She knew it would be in vain._

"_Well then I'm going too. I can't just sit here and let you lot do our bidding," Tonks said, jumping up from her spot next to Molly._

"_No, Nymphadora. You will do no such thing. You'll stay right there. Besides, someone needs to watch the children." _

_Ordinarily, she would have argued with Remus about the use of her full name, but, tonight, tension was so high it hardly seemed important._

"_Molly and Mia can do it."_

"_Please," Remus begged. Generally he was willing to cave to her wishes, but his look was that of an anguished lover, torn between his duty and his love. _

_Tonks promptly sat down and poured tea into the cups that had already been laid out. She handed one to Molly and then one to Mia, both of which took them without much presence of mind. They sat untouched in their hands for the duration of the evening._

"_Right then. I'll take Ottery St. Catchpole and Mossley Moor," said Arthur._

"_I've got Drowney Village and Knotted Knoll Hill," remarked Remus without much emotion. He did not have any ties to those locations, unlike Arthur who was going to survey the town he had lived in his whole life._

"_And I'll take Godric's Hollow, Wayland Gates, and the little towns down the hillside there. We'll meet back here, oh, say…by two past? Anyone in serious trouble should be invited to stay here. Otherwise, just check on our defenses and see just how much damage He's caused. Be prepared—it is likely he has not spared many lives, especially those of the Order. Keep a list of the deceased. We'll have to make funeral arrangements in the coming weeks," said Sirius. _

_Remus and Arthur both gave tight nods._

_Alastor and Kingsley were already out on reconnaissance. Both were employed at the Ministry and were being afforded maximum protection there. All other Order members had been invited to stay at Grimmauld Place should they feel unsafe in their own homes. All but the Potters had accepted of the traditional cannon._

_"Wait," said Tonks, remembering what she had in her pockets. "Take these." She handed them each a gold coin inscribed with ancient runes around the edges. Tonks had the master coin and could thus send messages to the others. To reply, they had merely to speak out loud the intended message in telegram form and press their lips to the metal. "We've all got them. Wormtail has one, too." _

_ With that, the men wrapped their cloaks around themselves and ventured out into the night, the darkness the color of licorice. Molly sobbed, picking up Ron, her youngest, who had been asking for her attention. _

_Tonks and Mia exchanged helpless glances._

* * *

_ At half past one, Grimmauld Place received word that Kingsley, the Minister, and Moody were all safe. This allayed their fears somewhat, but still no news had come from Sirius, Remus, and Arthur. Tonks had taken to rubbing the coin as though it were a rabbit's foot._

_ Arthur had swept the country towns, noticing physical damage but that many had been spared Voldemort's wrath. Only one of his neighbors had perished, and that was merely from a heart attack induced by fear. He was eighty-five years old. Sad, but not tragic. When Arthur came rain-laden through the door with mostly good news, Molly threw herself upon him. Arthur had no words of comfort for the other ladies. All he could do was hold his wife and children and pray for his friends._

_ Remus too returned in one piece, though with worse news to bear. Drowney Village, largely a young, single witch and wizard residence, had sustained heavy casualties. It seems the younger generations had far less experience with dark magic, mostly because of the humanitarian and ethical laws that had been placed on its practice when Voldemort had been leaving school. In their naiveté, they had failed to take proper precautions, or were too young to know what those precautions entailed and He destroyed them. Lupin suspected a bit of envy and rage in those killings, but the present was no time to speculate on the motives._

_ Now they were just waiting for Sirius and for news of the end of this reign of terror. Mia was inconsolable—that is, she would not take a word or gesture of comfort. She preferred to sit by herself, unmoving, saying nothing, with just the thoughts in her head to keep her sane. Tonks and Molly didn't like this, but let her be. It was just two a.m. when Tonk's coin glowed gold and grew warm. There was a message from Sirius. Tonks read it out loud: "_Wormtail in trouble. Don't know when I'll make it back. Tell Mia I love her." _She looked up after uttering the words. The faces she met were troubled with worry. She heard a choke escape Mia. Remus and Arthur looked panicked. Never had she seen her friends in such a state of distress. When she looked back over to where Mia had been sitting, she was gone._

* * *

_ Sirius had been travelling high above the countryside when his coin grew warm. A message from Wormtail appeared there. "_Need help. Malfoy Manor._" Sirius did not question it. He flew immediately to the aid of his friend._

_ He was surprised that there were no defenses in front of the home. Perhaps this meant the end was near. He took his dog form and leapt through a window into the dining room, arriving to a room filled with anxious tension._

_ The Deatheaters were assembled around the table. Voldemort was sitting, rather reposed, at the head, his long, bony fingers clasped together in bemused delight. Acacius, a rather gifted Wizarding interrogator was using the full strength of his rhetorical skills. His right hand was pressed against Wormtail's forehead, pulling his hair back at the roots, to his agony. His thin twig-like wand was jammed against his throat as he writhed in pain. _

_ "Are you under the influence of the Imperius Curse?" asked Acacius._

_ "No!" Wormtail gasped._

_ "Good. I want to make it known to any visitors that the information you give is of your own free will."_

_ "Get on with it, Acacius. This is not a court of law. At least not in the formal sense," said Voldemort, rather patiently._

_ "Of course, My Lord. My apologies." He cleared his throat. "Do you know the contents of a prophecy made a year ago by one Sybil Trelawney?"_

_ "…Yes," said Pettigrew, trying to stand the pain before giving in._

_ "And what is the nature of this prophecy?"_

_ "A boy born at the end of July will be The Dark Lord's demise. Neither can live while the other survives."_

_ "And do you know where this boy lives?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Tell me."_

_ "G—Godric's Hollow."_

_ Sirius jumped as he felt a flutter of wind rustle his fur. A raven had alighted next to his spot, hidden by the cloak of one of the Deatheaters. "Mia," Sirius barked softly. "What are you doing here?"_

_ "We got your message. I'm here to help."_

_ "I told you to stay put."_

_ "Good one," she remarked._

_ "Is this a game to you? People's lives are in danger!"_

_ "Yes. Namely yours and mine and the Wizarding World's right now. What good will it do if I sit on the sofa and wait for you to return when you need me? Is that Wormtail?" she asked, changing the subject._

_ Sirius did not have time to answer the question. _

_Mia listened as Wormtail was about to give away the Potter's address and she quickly put two and two together. Before Sirius could stop her, she whispered gruffly in his ear, "Go!" and she emerged out of her raven form and dashed to the chair Wormtail was sitting in. Everyone's face registered shock. _

_ "He knows nothing! Stop torturing him, you're not going to get anywhere! I'm the one you want. I was in the room when the prophecy was made. I know whom the prophecy concerned."_

_ Sirius had no time to reflect on this. All he saw was Wormtail being shoved into Belatrix's arms for close watching and Mia being made to endure the same torture Pettigrew had. But Sirius could not worry about his girlfriend's gallant and admirable efforts. He had to warn the Potters that danger was nearing._

* * *

"_James? Lily?" Sirius yelled, entering the Potter's home in Godric's Hollow. The lights downstairs were on, the house seemed unharmed thus far._

_ "Padfoot?" he heard Lily call. They were upstairs. Sirius ascended the stairs quickly, his long, lean legs taking them two at a time. _

_ "Sirius, what are you doing here?" said James with a smile. The world was falling in around them, but the little family seemed perfectly content and happy._

_ "I could ask you the same," Sirius said, incredulous._

_ "We were just putting your godson to bed," replied James, tousling his son's hair._

_ "You know what I mean, James. Why aren't you at Grimmauld Place with the rest of the Order?"_

_ James shrugged and put his arm around Lily. "Didn't feel the need. We can take what He throws at us. We didn't want our son to grow up and hear that on the night He terrorized our town, we were in hiding, acting powerless against an enemy we could defeat. I don't want to ever have to tell him that I was a coward when I could be protecting people."_

_ "For God sake James…this is no time for your pride. It is your one fatal flaw. No one will think less of you for protecting your _family_, for being with friends should…anything happen."_

_ "_I _will think less of me." _

_Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be well. Take…care of yourselves." Sirius moved over to the crib and lifted Harry into his arms, cradling him against his chest for a moment, cherishing the embrace._

_James smiled again and patted his friend on the shoulder. "We'll be fine. Get back to Mia and the Weasleys and we'll see you tomorrow or when this is all over. He can't maintain this level of strength forever. Sooner or later someone is going to have to defeat him."_

"_I know," said Sirius, already headed out the door. "I just hoped that it wouldn't be you." _

_Lily and James walked him to the door in silence. He turned once more to hug each of them and left the house as they collapsed on the couch in their sitting room, their arms around each other. '_So much love,_' Sirius thought as he walked away. It was this thought that prevented him from warning them. He could not introduce that fear, tainting perhaps that one last happy memory they would have with the knowledge of Voldemort's intent. He knew if any witch or wizard could take him, it was the Potters, and he felt some measure of comfort that Mia would be able to distract the Deatheaters from the trail, at least long enough for Sirius to get the Order's full protection for the Potters._

_He had to get going towards the other towns he was in charge of, but he took the opportunity to walk along the road, passing the quaint little church and graveyard. He shivered, but a look back at the happy home aglow with amber light rewarmed him. He poised his fingers for Disapparation when the still, but black sky swirled, thick black ropes materialized out of nowhere, and suddenly, hell was upon the Hollow._

_Voldemort, flanked by six Deatheaters descended upon the house. Sirius, undetected as he had metamorphosed into his Animagus form, watched as they assembled on the front walk. _

"_Is this it, Dolohov?"_

"_I'm fairly certain, My Lord. Ask the rat."_

_Sirius watched as Voldemort looked to Lucius Malfoy who drew out of his cloak a tiny animal. He grasped it in his fist and touched it with the tip of his wand. Suddenly, Wormtail was standing not thirty kilometers from him. He wanted to call out to him, but it would have sounded like a bark and given his location away._

_Wormtail was twitching and twittering as if still in his animal form. _

"_Well?" hissed Voldemort. "Is this where the boy born at the end of July resides, Pettigrew?"_

_Wormtail whimpered. "Y-ye-yes M-M-My Lord." _

"_Excellent," hissed Voldemort, sounding more like his precious snake, Nagini. _

_All in an instant, in a moment too quick for Sirius to comprehend, the Potter's home had been blasted open. He heard James command Lily, as she shrieked, to protect their son. The house was blown apart as Voldemort threw curse after curse. The light from the nursery window glowed green. Silence fell, and the last thing Sirius heard was the buoyant giggle of a little boy as he watched a scary monster he must have dreamed go away. He watched through the window as Harry looked for his mother, his father, someone to share his triumph over the nightmare with, but found no one. He began to cry._

_And then it was over. The sky swirled with the black, inky ropes of a crippled Voldemort, receding into the abyss from which he had come. The Deatheaters dematerialized and Wormtail was dead. All but a little pinky finger was left lying in the street. Sirius hastily grabbed for his coin and sent a message. "_Potters, Wormtail dead. Harry is safe. Alert Dumbledore. Voldemort is gone." _He could not be sure what had happened to Mia. He had to get back to Grimmauld Place._

* * *

_He arrived at his house as the Wizarding community emerged from their homes as though after a hurricane. Many were relieved, many were stunned, but Sirius could feel none of these feelings but remorse and gripping terror._

_Everyone was accounted for when he stepped inside. They were silent, given the grim news, but alive. They wanted to know what had happened, but dared not pester Sirius now. His eyes searched the crowd for Mia who had only just reappeared in the room._

"_What were you thinking?" asked Sirius. They were having a conversation meant just for them amongst all their friends._

"_That my friends needed me," she defended herself._

"_We were the last to be seen with Voldemort. I'm sure Malfoy knows it was us under his cloak, but was too scared to say so. They'll want answers to some questions. The Ministry will want to know how the Potters and Peter and those Muggles died. They'll want a head to lay this on, they're not going to let it go, with no body of Voldermort's to show to the world."_

"_I'm prepared for the consequences," she said, though fear was evident in her voice._

"_No. I take the blame for this, Mia. Not you."_

"_What's going on?" screamed Remus. _

_Sirius had no time to answer. There was a knock on the door. Kreacher opened it, and there was the Minister of Magic, with an arrest warrant in hand. There was no trial. The evidence was "insurmountable" that Sirius had betrayed the Potters' trust to Voldemort, that he had killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles in Godric's Hollow that very night. Sirius was due to serve life in Azkaban_.

* * *

Mia had to sit down. She had never relived that memory to its fullest extent before.

Molly and Arthur looked down at the ground, too ashamed to face Mia who they had so unnecessarily scorned for so long. She disappeared a moment after they took Sirius away, was excommunicated from the Order on the grounds that it was her disobedience that had caused all the miscommunication, and never heard from again until this night.

Remus looked at Mia intensely.

Sirius was standing next to her with his hand upon her shoulder.

"It was Pettigrew? Peter Pettigrew? Wormtail gave the Potters away?"

Sirius nodded. "Mia was trying to save Peter and the Potters. They quickly realized she knew nothing about the prophecy and seized on Pettigrew's weakness of mind. When faced with the slightest bit of pain, he betrayed his friends."

"And you took full blame?" asked Remus.

"I wasn't going to let the love of my life endure prison."

"But you could have gone to trial, gotten off even. You two would be married by now…your whole lives wasted because of that dead rat?"

Sirius smiled. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free. We're still together and we will be married. Just as soon as this bounty is off my head. I don't need to start my new life with that weight upon me. As for Pettigrew, if he were alive, I'd blast him dead."

"We all would," said Molly, lifting her head. "Mia, I can't begin to express—"

"It's all right. The past is the past. What matters right now is the future and unfortunately, it is beginning to look grim."

"Except for your engagement," said Tonks, always ready with a cheerful word.

"Except for that," Mia agreed, gazing lovingly at Sirius.

"She's right though," said Arthur chiming in. "He's back, there's no denying it."

"Well that's why I escaped. We've got to protect the reason he's back. We're banded together now stronger than we have been for the past twelve years. Maybe we're missing some of our best members, but we cannot let them, especially the Potters, die in vain. Lily died for her son, and Voldemort will stop at nothing to finish what he started. We've got to get into Hogwarts. We've got to warn Harry. He has to understand what he's up against, and we'll train him if we have to."

"There's just one problem," Tonks said.

They all looked to her.

"Sirius," she faltered, "You're wanted for murder."

Everyone laughed at the obvious remark.

"Well that is a bit of a hitch. Nothing I can't work with though."

They laughed again. It was rather funny after such an intense evening. But then the reality of the situation hit them. Somehow they would have to beat Voldemort once again. The only consolation was that they were now fully united. Miaquinn and the Order, and especially Mia and Sirius.

* * *

**A/N: Hello! So this is another fic I just decided to upload, but I wrote it a year ago. For those of you following my Gilmore Girls fanfic, I am only uploading this because it's finished and I want to contribute to the Harry Potter fandom. More Gilmore is on its way! Classes start tomorrow so I am getting in as much fanfiction as possible. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and please, please review! Your thoughts and comments keep me going!**


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